It's the living room, but also fondly known as the "Rosary Room," a title we bestowed on our old living room back in New Hampshire (in the house where we lived for 26 years) and brought along with us to Virginia when we moved here in 2017.
That NH living room was a lovely sage green, or leaf green--I'm not sure what to call it. I painted it when it was still unfurnished (we couldn't afford to furnish every room right away, as we started out a bit "house poor" when we bought that just-a-tad-beyond-our-means dream home in late 1990, the beloved Colonial in which we raised our five boys and thought we might live forever). I just really wanted a green living room, don't ask me why. Then one day in 1994 when my husband and I were out grocery shopping at BJ's Wholesale Club, we saw a floral couch and loveseat set upholstered in fabric that had the same green shade as the walls of our empty living room, for only $600--and it was a decent brand, Bassett. We bought it and we've had it ever since. When we first toured the Virginia house which we ended up buying, I was delighted to see that its living room was painted almost exactly the same shade of green, incredibly, which meant that my trusty couch and loveseat would look perfect in there. It seemed like a sign that we'd found our new home.
I'm inordinately attached to that pink-and-green couch and loveseat set. It's probably a little weird. I suppose after all these years, I should be yearning for a change; but the exact opposite is actually true. If we didn't have it anymore, I wouldn't even feel like it was "our" living room. Our youngest son was only a year old when we bought it, and he's now about to turn 33 and the father of two little girls. At this point, I've developed a sentimental attachment to my vintage set. Through all the years when it was considered hopelessly dated-looking, I continued to love it. (On a side note: I've heard through the grapevine that couches upholstered in floral fabrics are making a comeback, proving the wisdom of the age-old advice that if you hang onto something long enough, it will eventually come back in style.)
One of my daughters-in-law has expressed amazement that we’ve had the same living room furniture for 32 years, and she can't imagine how it didn't get destroyed with five boys living under our roof. But you see, they never used the living room to jump around or roughhouse, or to play noisy games. There was no TV in that room, no video game player. No one was allowed to bring food in there. Without us having to really say much about it, it was understood that the living room was a peaceful place, where we did things like sit and talk, listen to music on the stereo, and pray our family Rosaries. Our boys had plenty of other rooms where they could hang out, where they could draw and play board games, eat popcorn while they watched a VHS movie, or whatever, and they didn't really gravitate to that room. For me, the living room was an oasis of calm, of peace and quiet, in a loud and sometimes crazy testosterone-heavy house. It's still that way for me here in VA, but the difference is that since this smaller house we live in has a more open floor plan, the living room is not separated from the other living spaces as much as our NH one was. So the grandkids often wander into this pleasant little room with food in hand and need to be reminded that it’s not an eating room. They sometimes stand and climb (and have on occasion even begun to wrestle!) on the couches, and they need to be reminded that only sitting properly is allowed, and that if they want to play energetic games they should head down to the basement playroom.
After all the Christmas festivities were over and our oldest son headed back to WI with his family, I gave the house a deep clean. And in the living room, there was some evidence that Papa and Grammy’s rules had been broken. Among other things, I found a ball point pen wedged between the couch cushions (it hadn't leaked any of its ink, thank goodness) and a half-eaten Oreo, a couple of M & M's, and a hard-as-a-rock chocolate chip cookie (so who knows how long that had been there!) on the floor underneath the loveseat. I knew that one of our grandsons had brought paper, scissors, and scotch tape in there to work on a little craft project, on a day when I was too tired to object, and there were pieces of tape stuck to the coffee table. None of this is the end of the world, I know; but if I don't nip it in the bud, I fear that I will lose my neat and tidy, calm little oasis--and that my precious floral couch and loveseat set might eventually even need to be replaced (NOOOOOO!).
So I went on Etsy to have a downloadable sign made up for the Rosary Room, one that I can point to if I ever see any grandchild bending or breaking the rules.
I don't want to have a house where everything is hands-off, a place that makes visitors feel like they can't relax; but I also want to make sure that the kids know that the living room is not the place for rough play and making messes—especially when there are other rooms that are more suitable to those activities. Do you think I'm being unreasonable? I mean, we also have a cozy family room in this house, right next to the open kitchen, with a big TV, a gas fireplace, and baskets of toys and children’s books. And the basement was finished off with the intention that it would 100% be the grandkids’ domain; it’s bright and cheery, toy-filled, with another TV and plenty of comfy seating. Surely it’s okay for the living room to be preserved as a quieter, calmer space?…And the rules are ones my husband and I actually even follow ourselves (although I might bring my morning coffee in there on occasion--but adults are allowed to drink their beverages anywhere in the house. Age has its privileges, after all!).
Anyway, wrapping this up: I've waxed poetic before about my not-very-special but very-special-to-me couch and loveseat set here at the blog, more than once; I'm probably getting a bit boring, and if you keep coming back anyway, then God bless you. I know I'm like a broken record sometimes. But you're aware that old people just like to keep repeating the same old stories, aren't you? Yikes, that's what I'm doing. Perhaps then it might be time to close up shop here for good, before I embarrass myself?! (Too late? Ha ha!)
Before I sign off, I thought I’d share just a couple of the many grandkids-on-the-couch pictures taken in our living room over the past nine years that we’ve lived in Virginia. A Rosary Room rule or two was being broken when these shots were taken, you might notice. But moving forward, maybe my pretty little Etsy sign will help?
You might also notice that the wall of canvas portraits looks different in those two pictures. It's a constantly evolving project of mine, as grandchildren keep getting added to our String of Pearls. By the end of the month, I’ll need to do a little rearranging in order to make space for a new canvas, as our youngest grandchild will be turning one and joining the gallery of cuteness hanging above the couch in her Papa and Grammy's living room. I can't wait!
Okay, then, I'm not going to blog about my couches anymore. Pinky swear. You've heard enough about them, surely. But I may share more kids-on-the-couch pictures, because we always seem to be taking those when we have our family get-togethers at this house. And while my stories may be getting a tad old, those precious faces of theirs will never get old (says their unbiased Grammy!).
